


Kris Kringle with a Jingle

by tokyoeye



Category: Sherlock (TV)
Genre: Christmas Fluff, F/M, Fluff, Gift Giving, Humor, M/M, Post-Reichenbach, Romance
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-12-31
Updated: 2013-12-31
Packaged: 2018-01-06 22:48:10
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,197
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1112429
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/tokyoeye/pseuds/tokyoeye
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>John determines to bring some holiday spirit to his friends’ lives with a little twist--- Kris Kringle. Everyone in the group turns out to be quite good at being a secret Santa. Even Anderson.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Kris Kringle with a Jingle

**Author's Note:**

> Hi guys! As usual, any critics or comments on my writing would be very much appreciated.  
> I can't believe I posted it on the first day of 2014 so Happy New Year everyone! ^^  
> Lots of love to lazily_astray for beta reading my fic :)  
> Enjoy~

The Persuasion

“… No, John. I’m not doing it. Gift giving is just an unnecessary custom in which people absurdly believe in getting what they wish for from people who either overthink or under-think, and either will result in the inevitable bitter taste of disappointment as they tear apart the wrapping with pathetic excitement. As for me, there are hardly any expectations or surprise. So no, I’m not doing it.”  
John has been trying to convince Sherlock into agreeing doing Kris Kringle the whole morning. The consulting detective in his sleep gown is merely listening to his flatmate rumbling on and on about the importance of the holiday spirit. After the useless lecture on connecting with loved ones, John turns his tactic into manipulation of guilt. It is true that he’s had some miserable Christmas with Sherlock’s absence, which is why John deems it only probable to have a truly merry holiday this year and he is ready to be on Sherlock’s back all day. “C’mon Sherlock, I’ve missed the little gathering we had three years ago ever since you were bloody dead… I’ve never spent it with a family, and I never felt the warmth and satisfaction of seeing people I love gather around.” John strides towards the table in front of Sherlock and looks Sherlock into his eyes, reinforcing the angst, “Last year I was sitting in this goddamn apartment drinking Brandy all by myself. You owe me that much Sherlock.”  
“John…” Sherlock stops and shrugs at the thought of John being alone at Christmas and he needs to lose this one. “Alright,” Sherlock says in a bargaining tone, “I’ll do it John, for you. But don’t expect me to leave my usual self and be considerate. I’m thinking about the ‘best boyfriend in the world’ mug for you.”  
“Thank you.” John smiles in sincere happiness and bends down to give the nose of Sherlock a little kiss. “Sadly, the point of Kris Kringle is not being able to choose who you buy the gift for, genius, so you might need to reconsider buying that boyfriend mug if you get Anderson.” John winks and turns around before Sherlock could start to protest Anderson’s participation in this. If I did get Anderson which god forbid, it’s not like I’d give a damn whether that idiot would like my gift or not. 

 

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Sally Donovan is in charge of organising the Kris Kringle. She walks around in the small group of friends giving every person a little piece of paper with the name of their gift receiver written on it. Then the groups scatter into different places in London, away in their gift buying adventure.

 

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The Gift-giving

Finally, Christmas evening comes and it’s time for the presents to be opened. Everyone is high in anticipation, and even Sherlock is feeling rather exhilarated after downing two glasses of the scotch provided by the “beloved” Mrs Hudson. John can’t help but beam at Sherlock for seeing their apartment filled with seasonal joy. He steps closer to Sherlock and encircles his flatmate’s waist with his right arm. Sherlock is wearing the tight purple shirt that never ceases to amaze John, and John’s fingers absentmindedly caress the muscle underneath. “Thanks for agreeing to do this, flatmate.” John whispers in Sherlock’s ear. Sherlock pushes himself slightly backwards to be tightly embraced by John’s right arm and plants a swift kiss on John’s soft blond hair, “Anytime, flatmate,” he whispers back.

 

“Alright, boys and girls, it’s present time!” Sally clinks her glass with her finger to get the group’s attention, particularly eyeing at the couple who have now entreated into the corner, whispering to each other. The group that was scattered around the room having little chats is now gathered around the Christmas tree, which is decorated magnificently by Mrs Hudson. Sally closes her eyes and fishes for a gift under the tree.

 

“Right, this one is for Molly!”

 

Molly shoots up from the sofa and receives a sophisticatedly wrapped present. “Hmmm, I think this is from Mrs Hudson?” Molly smiles expectedly at Mrs Hudson and the landlady smiles kindly back at her. As Molly carefully unwraps the presents she is startled at the craftsmanship of Mrs Hudson on gift-wrapping. The present includes a coupon to a massage salon, a coupon to a spa centre as well as a set of a cosmetic palette with everything Molly would ever need in terms of makeups.  
“Thank you so much Mrs Hudson! I love it and I can’t wait to have a makeover using absolutely everything from it!” Molly squeals.  
“You’re welcome dear and I’m glad you like it. Treat yourself well okay? And make sure you show the boys how beautiful you truly are.” Mrs Hudson dares to raises her eyebrows at Lestrade, and Molly blushes catching the micro-action. Oh, of course Mrs Hudson knows.

 

Mycroft gets his present next. “Judging on the handwriting of my name and shape of it,” Mycroft imitates Sherlock’s deduction and the group giggles, “it must be my brotherrrrrrr---” Mycroft lets the suspense hangs---“…’s boyfriend.” He looks at John and gets the nod of approval. Unwrapping paper in his own posh manner, John’s eagerness to see Mycroft’s reaction is turning into slight impatience.  
“It’s okay Mycroft; you can just tear it apart.”  
Mycroft complies and finds himself a classic Christmas jumper. “Oh! Not another one! Very funny, John.” Mycroft fakes his annoyance and exaggerates a moan.  
“Put it on Mycroft!” the rest of the group squeals in delight.  
“Alright alright, but just because it is Christmas.” Mycroft says. He’s in a very good mood tonight and doesn’t mind being laughed at. He puts on the green-and-red jumper with three reindeers on top of each other in a very suspicious way.  
“Are they fucking each other?” Mycroft asks in disbelief. But John is now cracking up too hard and can’t quite catch his breath. Seeing it on Mycroft is a hundred times more hilarious than he can image. High pitch laughter from the group evokes uncontrollably and the noise shakes the living room. 

 

Then Anderson opens his. “Let’s see,” he holds up the objects one by one to show the rest of them, “A razor and a shaving cologne? That’s really nice of you Lestrade.” Lestrade grins at him in mischief.  
“You do need a good o’ shave, my friend.” Lestrade raises his glass at Anderson.  
Anderson can’t help but snort. “Well well well. And a love letter.” He smiles and holds up a white envelope with nothing written on it. The group ‘oooooh’ correspondingly. And as he reads Anderson makes eye contacts with Lestrade to determine whether it is a joke a not.  
“You convinced them to give me my job back?” Anderson asks wide-eyed and Lestrade presses his lips and nods in confirmation. And for a moment Anderson is struck speechless; then he steps towards Lestrade to give him a hug. “Thanks Lestrade. The job means a lot to me.” He almost breathes out the sentence.  
“A love letter no less!” Comments Sally and the rest of the group chuckles.

 

Afterwards Mrs Hudson tentatively opens a wrapped cylinder box. Inside there is a set of cake baking equipment from an expensive French brand, and with it, a cerise color apron. “Mycroft, is that you?” Mrs Hudson questions good-naturedly and Mycroft snickers.  
“Looks like someone has found his unlimited supply to satisfy his craving for cake.” Sherlock says sourly. And Mrs Hudson squeaks, “And the apron is cerise! Have I not told you that I should never wear cerise because it drains me?” But everyone laughs.

 

And then it’s Lestrade’s turn. There is a small box containing a beautiful set of cufflinks and a bigger box of chocolate which the pieces are all shaped in anatomically-correct hearts. “Thank you Molly.” Lestrade smiles and gives Molly a light kiss on her cheek and everyone in the room can feel the heat radiating from those two. Their connection has been obvious ever since they become friends during Sherlock’s ‘absence without leave’; Molly has admired Lestrade for having pieced the clues together and his faith in Sherlock. Although there’s a mutual recognition between them that it’ll be a tiny bit awkward if they start date, Molly’s gift might be hinting to Lestrade that it’s time for him to make a move.

 

Sherlock being his usual self does not care for the wrapping paper at all. He unwraps the gift roughly and finds the box similar to one of the file boxes from a police department. He looks at Anderson in doubt (of course he knows it’s from Anderson) and is surprised that what is inside is nothing he imagines to be. He finds a dozen large envelopes and they all contain a file inside. “Is this…” Sherlock’s eyes are now sparking with absolute interest and excitement, with what John would describe as a 16-year-old boy finding the latest released Grand Theft Auto.  
“What is it?” Now everyone is curious. A gift that actually makes the arrogant genius leak of utter satisfaction?  
“Cold cases.” Anderson says proudly. “I thought he’d get bored without murders this time of the year and they ought to keep him busy until next Christmas.” Anderson smiles adorably looking at Sherlock’s face with all kinds of wonder written on it.  
“Thank you.” Sherlock says in sincere and although he’s still trying to grasp the last bit of control over his emotional self, he lets out a smirk. Anderson has outsmarted him with thoughtfulness and goodwill, and Sherlock can’t help but feel all the bickering between them is put behind. He has heard of what Anderson did for him when he was “dead” and he never quite believed Anderson’s noble intention until now. Every Christmas needs a good old fashion miracle, he secretly thinks.

 

Everyone’s anticipation has climbed to the climax because it’s finally John’s turn and Sherlock has to be the secret Santa. “I bet it’s a skull or a severed part of a human body.” Lestrade murmurs to Molly and to which she chuckles.  
“Ha!” John stares at it in utter disbelief, and it is not the good kind. “It’s the ‘Best Ever Flatmate’ mug! It’s not even ‘Best Boyfriend’!” John jokes darkly, his eyes dulled by disappointment. Everyone’s heart instantly offers pity and sympathy and slight irritation at Sherlock’s insensitivity. Sherlock has fallen to silence as if he is honestly baffled by John’s reaction and does not know resolve the tension.  
Luckily Mrs Hudson would not have this little domestic to crush a Christmas party of course and gracefully seeks others’ help to bring out her specially made traditional Christmas pudding and tarts. The whole group distribute into different parts of the apartment again and John feeling hopelessly exasperated walks away from Sherlock to fill his glass with more scotch.

 

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The rest of the evening flows through as merrily as it can possibly be (with the help of forever coming scotch). As the last guest leaves John feels slightly better and somehow even relieved recalling his achievement of hosting such a successful party. He turns around and finds Sherlock standing right behind him.  
“What’s up, FLATMATE?” John knows he’s not going to let it go for another six months.  
“John…”  
“No, Sherlock, apologizing won’t make me feel better. I forgave you for making me believe that you’re dead for two years in six months’ time and I need to hold onto something that can remind me how maddening you can be at times.” John stares at Sherlock’s infuriatingly calm face.  
But Sherlock doesn’t open his mouth to defend. Instead, he reaches over to bring John’s hand up and puts something on to his palm while keeping his gaze at John’s face.  
It’s a ring. But it’s not an engagement ring. It’s the sort of aluminum ring that will have scraped marks all over it that you can buy with $2.50 in a Dollar Shop. “I honestly think you are the best flatmate ever John. Because you take care of me and will sometimes put a bullet in a guy’s head in order to do so. Because you bring tea or coffee every morning along with whatever breakfast you’re having. Because you fall in love with me and you give me sensations I never imagined feeling before. I love you John. And with this ring,” Sherlock’s soft voice has lowered to the pitch of a cello, “I promise you that I’ll try my best to be sensitive and make myself the best flatmate ever for you.”  
John doesn’t have the heart to wait before he pulls Sherlock down and kisses him on the lips. His hands wander around Sherlock’s back then move up to tangle his fingers with the curly hair to deepen the kiss. Breaking away reluctantly, John smiles at Sherlock. “You ARE already the best flatmate in the world. And by the way, I saw your unfinished essay on ‘A study on the physical and psychological effect of gift-giving in a non-platonic relationship.’ I hope you haven’t made the conclusion on the physical effects.” John winks at Sherlock and pulls him back down for another kiss and this time it suggests something far more than that.


End file.
